Housekeeping Demons
by Lady Isaiah
Summary: It's 1867, a few months before the first engagement of the Boshin War at Toba Fushimi. And Kenshin's bedridden. How does the Ishin Shishi care for their Battousai?
1. The thing that cannot be hidden

Housekeeping Demons

By: Lady Isaiah  
July 2013

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_Summary:_ _It's 1867, a few months before the first engagement of the Boshin War at Toba Fushimi. And Kenshin's bedridden. How does the Ishin Shishi care for their Battousai?_

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**１**

『ただ隠せないもの、飾ったように見せかけて。。。』

"Tada kakusenai mono, kazatta youni misekakete…"

[The thing that cannot be hidden, pretending like it's been decorated…]

* * *

Kyoto, Japan  
Keio 3, 12th Day of the 10th Month"  
Thursday, November 7, 1867

Isaza watched as Himura Battousai grappled with the damned Shinsengumi. Back and forth they clashed, blurs in the fading light.

"Not good, not good…" Isaza murmured. He whistled a high-pitched tune, hoping Himura would get the message: "retreat" in hawk-song. Just as Isaza turned to clamber up the embankment, he took one last look back. The Shinsengumi bastard had pinned Himura Battousai against the wooden bridge.

Himura's eyes went wide. Something was wrong. He toppled from the bridge, wooden splinters rained down with him. Isaza waited for Himura's red hair to come bobbing back up, but he never did.

"Kuso…" Isaza muttered. Leg muscles tensed, ready to dive into the river, but the Shinsengumi shadow stood at the mouth of the break, looking down. A quick walk around and he was sliding down the embankment. This Shinsengumi wasn't a captain or even a vice and neither was he tall or remarkable looking.

Isaza cursed again, this time more violently. He hoped that Himura decided to stay submerged only to wash up downstream, where Isaza waited and then they both could make their escape back to the Hiiragiya Bekkan Ryokan.

But of course not.

Hands launched from the water and dragged the Shinsengumi down by the ankles. Splashes of water rose as Battousai and the Shinsengumi soldier fought, sending blades of water droplets out in broad arcs. With a great streak of what almost seemed to be lightning, the sprays broke into silence.

The Shinsengumi soldier fell. Isaza's eyes were pinned on the corpse as he floated down the river and passed him: eyes open and skyward, stabbed through with his own blade. Isaza breathed a sigh of relief and looked towards Himura. Distantly, he could see a form, underneath the eaves of the bridge, lodged amongst the rocks. He wasn't moving. Either Himura's wounds from the long road trip not a week prior did him in or he'd received a few more from their now dead friend. Or both.

Staying low and close to the reeds, Isaza slunk upstream. The Kamagawa was not a fast-flowing river nor was it deep, only about a meter, but it was a river that had a thousand little inlets and as Emperor Shirakawa said back in the 11th century, it was unmanageable, eroding away anything it could, going where it will. Isaza thanked the Kamagawa Spirit that his waters had not taken Himura to who knew where. Who knew where the Shinsengumi would end up?

Well, at least things had changed a bit in the last 700 years.

Isaza crouched, reaching Himura. He took another minute, glancing around, attempting to sense any ki, but did not. Now to Himura, who was completely passed out. He was rather childlike in this state if it wasn't for the huge black mark and bleeding head wound marring his right eye. Isaza smiled. But he looked much worse than he did before and Isaza paled.

"Knew we shouldn't have taken this mission so soon," he muttered.

He gripped Himura's shoulders and hauled him onto the ground, shuddering from the cold November water. Isaza wondered morbidly how much blood intermixed with water. Shoulder wounds, a rake across the chest, and a cut to the side. Himura didn't even twitch, but gripped his katana tightly. He might still be on the edge consciousness.

"Battousai-san... Battousai-san..." Isaza whispered, not daring the prodigals of night. "Battousai-san..."

No reaction.

Isaza eyed the sword. That was Himura's lifeline. Even after all this time, he never stopped the mantra, "I am Katsura's sword." A tool. A mindless weapon with the unspoken meanings and all that entailed being an emotionless manslayer, defining all Himura said and did. If Himura were aware at all, he would never let anyone touch the blade, let alone let it be taken from his grasp. Isaza mused he might get his head lopped off...but his amusement faded considering the state of his friend.

Clasping Himura's hand, Isaza pried the tight grip, finger by finger, from the hilt. Himura didn't so much as flutter an eyelid.

He slipped the katana away and pulled the sheath from Himura's hakama, sheathed the blade and placed it on himself. Isaza's jaw tensed as he hauled Himura up and slung the young man over his shoulders, one arm wrapped about his legs as the other clutched Himura's arm. His knee gave a pained twinge, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle.

Isaza cast about again, sensing ki or any other sign of life, and blessedly, he felt they were still alone. Yet he could not afford to linger.

Okami's new place was on the other side of Kyoto, near the Takanogawa River. Instead of an average inn, she'd built a ryokan, after the Ikedaya was burnt down a good two to three years ago. It wouldn't be where the Bakufu would expect the Shishi, or so she said. But for all the glamour of a ryokan, it'd still take an hour to get back.

He hustled up the slope, crossed the path, and slunk into the shadows of Kyoto's old streets. Isaza wasted no time getting Himura back to the ryokan in the Nakagyo Ward, keeping to the shadows as much as he could and only sacrificing stealth when he felt truly safe to do so. He prayed to the Kyoto spirits to smile down on them this night. Himura started shivering a great deal halfway there.

"Making me break all my own rules, kid," he grumbled. He turned a corner and just up an alleyway and onto another side road. There it was. Lights and lanterns still blazed signifying many of the men were still awake. It was only three hours after sunset anyhow.

He glanced this way and that down the road and seeing - sensing - only the usual individuals in their homes and inns, he scurried across and ducked under the noren.

"Akane-chan. Good…I just caught you."

A young serving girl looked up from sweeping the entryway floor, doing the last of the chores before closing. Any later, and she'd already have been in bed. She flushed, eyes widening at the site of Isaza and the red hair that trailed over his shoulder and down his front. Akane gasped as Isaza pulled Himura from his aching shoulders and laid him down, letting the young man's feet dangle off the edge into the entryway. In the blazing light of the lanterns, Isaza could see Akane's shock had more than enough merit. Himura's skin paled to a deathly grey with tinges of red. Resting the back of his hand against Himura's forehead, Isaza felt the burn of a fever.

"Akane-chan. Get Okami-san and prepare a room for Battousai-san." And maybe even a doctor, he thought. But he wanted to wait and see what Okami said first.

The girl scurried off, Isaza barely watching.

"Battousai-san…" Isaza spoke louder now they were in welcome company. He patted Himura's cheek, avoiding the nasty bruise. "Battousai-san… Himura-san…"

Himura shuddered, grimacing, and grasping weakly at his own shoulders as he squinted his eyes closed as if hoping to ward off the cold with darkness. A little better than before, but Isaza knew that Himura was far from awake, lost to the mazes of the mind and dreams. A fever could have been from the river, infection in the new wounds, from the just-healed ones from their three-week trek back from Nagasaki, or all three.

Isaza pulled back a little bit of Himura's gi and winced. The blood wasn't gushing, but a slow bleed still trickled down his chest and side. He pressed a hand to a particular shoulder wound. Isaza smiled as Himura winced. Still with us. It was a sharp, direct thrust, deep, and so utterly close to the heart. Himura was lucky to be alive.

"Isaza-san? What's this about a doc – oh."

Isaza looked up to see Kano standing in the corridor and behind him Osamu. Great. Just great. This was not the publicity that Himura needed. At least he was unconscious…but maybe it would do to see these men see Himura wounded. Not just some demon to be had and scared of until his use and skill at warmongering ran out and then, and only then to see Himura as a human who'd gone mad. Himura emanated strength despite the weakness of the human body, yet no one had actually seen him this wounded before. Himura was 18, three years an adult, but still…young. And not mad, but pained.

The shocked look on Kano's face certainly said he was struggling with the similar idea. Osamu was a friend, sort of. He talked to Himura like a normal person, but still kept his distance.

Kano and Isaza were still staring at each other when Kano pointed and asked, "Is any of that blood yours?"

"What?" Isaza stared down at himself, now seeing the streaks and splotches of dark red and water littering his shoulders and the feel of the wet river casted down his back. He suppressed an urge to shiver.

"No!" He started. Isaza turned and went back to tending Himura as best he could, burning and trembling beneath his fingers. He pulled Himura's zori off and grabbed a clean towel off a stack that Akane left to clean with and pressed it to the worst of Himura's wounds. Then whispered, "No. It's all Himura-san's. Where's Okami-san?"

"How?" Kano hadn't moved.

"What?" Isaza stopped and stood straight, glaring at Kano. Really? Like, really, really?

Osamu glanced at Kano as well. "What are you on about?"

"How did he end up…like that?" Kano's voice betrayed tinges of worry and wariness, not for Himura's sake.

Isaza frowned. "What's this about, Kano-san? Battousai-san was ambushed, all right? He hasn't fully recovered from his wounds a week ago with that horrendous trip. You were there, lest I remind you. Now, where is Okami-san?"

"Sure, Battousai-san's scary, but he's loyal through and through, Kano-san," Osamu butted in.

Ahh, so this is where he was going. Trust and betrayal.

"If I can remind you, Kano-san, Battousai-san's the most loyal patriot the Ishin Shishi has. This was not a matter of bloodlust and him going berserk or whatever it is you're thinking, isn't that right, Isaza-san?" Osamu brushed past Kano and bent to inspect Himura. "He's definitely going to need a doctor. After Okami-san gets him settled in, I'll run and get Fujiwara-senpai."

Isaza bowed. "Thank you, Osamu-san."

"I apologize, Isaza-san," Okami bundled down the corridor and with a finger beckoned the pair. "I was helping Akane-chan prepare a room. Poor girl's in a fright. Now, Kano-san, please go back to your game unless you plan on helping."

The bite in her voice echoed all too evident and Isaza almost dropped Himura as he picked him up. Kami-sama, he never wanted to get on Okami-san's bad side. He stopped next to Kano as the man let him pass and whispered a quiet warning, "If you must know the details, go ask Katsura-sama in the morning. I'm sure he'd love to tell you all you need to know."

Isaza followed Okami down the corridor, Osamu trailing behind. He clutched Himura tight, not realizing how heavy he was. Himura was rather small for his age. He vaguely wondered how many men were still awake or in the rooms and got his answer when they crossed the tatami of the main communal hall. Not many, but enough. They sat, smoking their pipes, chatting, or playing games around their kotatsus. They didn't quite realize who entered, Himura's familiar swordsman ki now weakened, until the bright flash of Himura's flame-red hair pulled their eyes away. No overbearing ki. No power or strength exuded from the young man, yet there he was. It was like the men were finally given permission to stare.

"Nothing to see here," Osamu called out in his happy voice. "Ah, Yasuo-san! Watch out, I think Tetsuo-san's trying to cheat."

Yasuo turned around, eyes playing over the dice. "What!?"

"Am not!" Tetsuo yelled, staggering up and jostling the table.

"Maa, maa… but look, Yasuo-san. He's got you." Osamu pointed and continued on explaining why the poor young man, Yasuo, had lost the game.

Thank you, again, Osamu-san, Isaza thought as they walked on and up the stairs. Eyes struggled to stare at their games or gall at the sight of their wounded Battousai, but Osamu proved distracting. No man wanted, nor needed, to be stared at as they were hauled unconscious through a crowd of men, least of all, Himura-san. When they reached the top of the stairs, whispers flooded from below along with Osamu's bellowing laugh.

Okami led Isaza to a small room that overlooked the enclosed courtyard behind the ryokan. It was the traditional sick room and lately - luckily - the room was not in use. With the fall of the Bakufu at Nagasaki, they'd started retreating, giving the Ishin Shishi a stronger foothold. Many attempts were made along their road trip back to Kyoto. Apparently, Katsura's comrade, Sakamoto Ryoma, was making progress in negotiations with the Shogun, so they were bent on returning as soon as possible. As usual, Himura took his duties seriously (as expected), but also took much of the weight during their makeshift skirmishes, which resulted in said wounds.

The shoji slid open, Okami already making to kneel beside the futon. She produced a yukata and stack of white cloth. "Please get him out of those wet clothes and place them in the basket by the door. I will return with hot water. And you best change as well. I'll send for Fujiwara-senpai."

She left and carefully, awkwardly, and with painstaking care, Isaza did as she said. She could not be present for any undressing for she was no doctor, being a mere innkeeper, and a woman. Once he settled Himura on the futon, Isaza suddenly felt how exhausted he was, soreness and a desire to sit and close his eyes threatened to take over. No. He could not. He sat back on his heels, watching Himura. It didn't feel right leaving Himura alone until Okami, Osamu, or Fujiwara came to take watch. The red-headed young man still shivered every now and then, now dry, with temporary bandages pressed to his sides and shoulder, the bleeding already mostly stopped.

A knock resounded soft and quiet, but startled Isaza nonetheless. He turned and stood. "Come in."

In stepped Fujiwara-senpai, an elderly Kampo Physician, and Okami-san with her bucket of hot water. Immediately, Isaza knelt, giving Fuijwara a run-down of Himura's injuries, ones noticeable, and others, some severe or not, he found while removing his wet garments. Fuijwara nodded and shooed him away. Isaza met Osamu-san who hovered by the door, looking in. "How is he?"

"How does he look?"

"Like a wolf got it's teeth into him."

"You're half right." Isaza sighed.

Okami appeared between them, basket of Himura's stained clothing in hand. "Kindly close the door and remove yourselves before I kick you numbskulls out."

"Ah! Gomen nasai, Okami-san!" Osamu grinned and bowed, getting out of her way as she left.

Isaza muttered apologies as he exited the room, closing the door. Not an inch was left before Fujiwara's voice seeped through in that cracked old man's way. "One of you, stay and help."

Osamu and Isaza looked at each other.

"You look like kuso." Osamu grinned.

"Thanks..." Isaza frowned.

"You get cleaned up. Take a bath." He sniffed the air around Isaza. "Woohoo! You stink! Don't worry, I got this. Goodness knows what'll happen if Himura-san wakes up to your ugly mug."

"Thanks...I think." Isaza frowned again.

Osamu nodded and ducked into the room where Fujiwara was already mixing herbal remedies, the bitter smell assaulting Isaza's nostrils. Slowly he closed the shoji, Osamu and Fujiwara's conversation fading out.

* * *

Osamu knelt next to Kenshin, his grin fading into a grimace as he watch Fujiwara inspect the shoulder wound.

"The blade's tip broke off and is still embedded deeply. Hold this." Fujiwara shoved a bowl of horrible smelling herbs and a grinder into Osamu's hands. "Now where did that mixture go?"

Fujiwara squinted, casting about for some unnamed mixture. Osamu glanced between the grinder and and bowl in his hands then at Fujiwara. He took a gander and held them up. "Is it this the one?"

Fujiwara leaned forward and peered into the bowl with one wide eye. "Ahh, yes. Where did you find it?"

Senile old man...Osamu thought. He debated on not giving the medicine back. The old physician might kill Kenshin and go along smiling, happily mixing deathly poisons while his future patients begged for mercy. All the while, Fujiwara-senpai would forget what concoctions he'd cooked up because his brain was too old to decipher the labels or remember where he placed any mixtures, if he remembered to make them first.

Osamu was about to snatch the bowl from Fujiwara's reach when the man grasped both and set it aside. "Silly man, that's not the one. Ah! Here it is. Please sit Himura-san up."

Maybe Kenshin would survive Fujiwara's potions, but Osamu wouldn't bet his life on it. Gently wrapping an arm around Kenshin, he lifted the younger man to a sitting position. Fujiwara waved a vial underneath his nose. "Wakey, wakey, Himura-san!"

Kenshin's face clearly said, No, I'd really rather not. Furrowed brows, pained grimace, with the red coloring fading into a mottled green, bleary eyes opened.

"Himura-san. You're awake." Osamu grinned, trying to grab Kenshin's attention before deciding he was in danger. "What happened? The ladies in Gion get too frisky?"

Kenshin's half-open eye slid from Fujiwara to Osamu, focusing on his friend. The other stayed completely shut.

"I will make sure Katsura-dono finds out about your," he paused, voice low, quiet, and struggling against pain and unconsciousness. "...cat stealing his fish...if you make any more references to Gion... I'm sure Okami-dono would have something to say... about the fish from her pond... too."

Osamu froze. Kenshin was mighty coherent for an injured guy, but Kenshin always had a knack for zanshin. "You wouldn't."

Before Kenshin could reply, Fujiwara shoved a mug into his hands and said, "Drink. And I mean all of it."

He patted Kenshin's shoulder, sending spasms of pain through his body and would have sloshed the medicinal drink if Osamu hadn't steadied him. He drank all of it much to Osamu's relief. Fujiwara grabbed the empty mug and replaced it with another. "Now this."

"It's bitter." Kenshin muttered.

"Did I hear the great Battousai-san actually complain?" Osamu laughed, prodding Kenshin with twinkling eyes.

Kenshin didn't grace him with a comment, giving Osamu a death glare instead.

"Maa, Maa," Osamu raised his hands in mock surrender. "I get it. Ha ha!"

By the end of the second mug, Kenshin's eyes were drooping closed and he could barely keep himself upright.

"What... did you..." Kenshin fell backwards, Osamu panicking as he caught and lay Kenshin slowly down onto the futon: sound asleep.

"Yokatta, there- he- goes-!" Fujiwara cooed.

Crazy AND senile, Osamu stared at the old man.

"What did you give him?" Osamu asked.

"Painkiller and a knockout drug. It's a real clincher, that stuff! Now, let's get that baby out of his shoulder." Fujiwara smiled, proffering tweezers and a tiny knife.

Osamu paled. Had he let this man operate on him those times he'd been wounded? He really must speak to Katsura about this.

Fujiwara bent with careful hands and dug deep into the cut. Kenshin tense and Osamu moved to hold him down, but Fujiwara waved him off with a finger.

"No, no," he said.

"What?"

The physician probed deeper, Kenshin clearly in pain by the strained look on his face, but still he did not movie.

"I gave Himura-san tsusensan."

As if Osamu knew what that was.

Fujiwara noticed Osamu's dumbfounded look, not pausing his work. "It's an anesthetic and also induces skeletal muscle paralysis. You understand, boy?"

Where did this "boy" come from? Osamu nodded and swallowed. "Oh course. Himura-san can't move."

All the same, he didn't like how Fujiwara kept at the injury, meandering his way around Kenshin's heart, causing Osamu to wonder how strong the painkiller really was.

"Grab a clean cloth." Fujiwara said brusquely.

The physician's hands were stilled, eyes focused, but voice desperate. He called again, "Quickly, quickly."

Osamu rushed, grabbed a few pieces of cloth as Fujiwara motioned Osamu closer. "Once I pull this out -"

"Press down hard. I know." Osamu replied.

Fujiwara smiled. "Good."

"With a slight tug, the silver tip of the katana's blade broke free of Kenshin's shoulder, only seconds later to be covered by Osamu's white cloth. Kenshin gasped beneath him, his one good eye opening the tiniest bit before closing once again.

"He's still very hot." Osamu said, feeling the heated skin under his palms to be more than mere blood. "Can you give him anything for the fever?"

"It's supposed to snow tonight." Fujiwara said absently inspecting the blade's tip.

"We're not sticking Himura-san outside to freeze!" Osamu growled.

"What?" Fujiwara blinked, his gaze settling on Osamu as if he'd never seen the man before in his life. He smiled, but said nothing.

Oh, Kami-sama, save Kenshin, please, Osamu begged.

Fujiwara continued to work on Kenshin, pressing herbal remedies into or on his injuries as well as sewing stitches into the worst of his wounds. Osamu became more contented with Fujiwara's work as time passed. He was a good doctor. Maybe a bit crazy, but he knew what he was doing. The longest part was plucking the splinters from Kenshin's back. His haori had not stopped large chunks from piercing through and now his skin looked peppered with the spray of blood splatter. Kenshin's eye gained bandage that wrapped around his head and Osamu mused that with the cross-shaped scar and the flame-red hair, Kenshin could pass as a mercenary. Once he woke with the customary scowl, all would be set. A new nickname was needed...something to consult Isaza about, for he was the wordy one.

Nary and hour passed when Kenshin lay bandaged, cool cloth soaking his brow, a light blanket covering him, and the window firmly closed. No snow would ever get in.

"The fever's a good thing." Fujiwara whispered out of the blue, yawning. He sat back, massaging his shoulders. He moved to clean what utensils he could as he continued, "It means his body is fighting back. Making Himura-san cold will only increase his chances of dying."

Now he talks like a sane man, Osamu sent a withering stare at him. The old man waved a grinder in his face and Osamu, still fearing Fujiwara's concoctions, gulped and nodded. "I'll stay and watch over him tonight. It's very late, so I'm sure Okami-san has a room set up for you."

Fujiwara gathered his instruments, placing them back in his medicine case. Osamu wasn't sure if he'd heard him, as the old physician proved he would do both.

A soft knock echoed and the shoji slid open an inch. "It's Isaza."

"Come in," Osamu scooted over, giving his friend space to kneel. "Quiet now. Himura-san's asleep. Ah, you smell better!"

Isaza shot him a dirty look then to Kenshin. "All finished?"

"For the most part," Osamu said.

"Just watching and waiting now." Fujiwara interjected. He yawned again from his place across from them.

"I see..." Isaza seemed tense, clenching and unclenching his fists. "The men are unsettled."

"What have they to be worried about?" Osamu scoffed. "Thing's have been going great lately with the Bakufu under our thumbs...well, except for this..."

"And therein lies the issue," Fujiwara hummed. "Men are like fruit. Once one goes rotten, the whole batch must be thrown."

Osamu opened his mouth to speak, then glanced at Isaza then back to Fujiwara. "What? What does that have to do with Himura-san?"

"The men have always been suspicious, Osamu-san. While not many remain from before the incident three years ago, rumors still fly about the Hitokiri Battousai."

"So...just by this one, you said ambush, right?" Osamu ranted, "They're blaming Himura-san going all glowy-eyed Hitokiri like some youkai? Bunch of ahou. Have you talked to Katsura-dono yet?"

"Yes. He's aware. He'll decide what to do." Isaza turned to the physician. "Fujiwara-senpai, you are a great doctor. Can you also diagnose the mind?"

The old man seemed to contemplate the question before stretching and yawning yet again. "Yes. Of course. I practice Kampo after all. I'll talk to Himura-san once he's ready."

"Thank you so much," Isaza bowed slow.

Osamu mimicked him. "Yes, thank you for all your help today."

Fujiwara's eyes twinkled. He held up a finger. "But tell me one thing."

"Anything you ask," Isaza beamed.

"What happened in Gion with Battousai-san?"

Isaza's smile faded and he glared at Osamu. "You mentioned it, didn't you?"

Osamu grinned.

* * *

Author's Note

I can't say that this story will be serious or humorous. I have my own humor, which can be quite, well, morbid, or dry and subtle. So, yes, I understand the summary encourages humor, but alas, it is not something I can promise.

Nor are there any pairings. I hate reading and writing romance. If two characters are "nakama," then they're "nakama" or otherwise known in ancient greek, Phileo love. (Nakama is "used to refer to a friend who one considers family. He's not your friend, but he'll stand by you no matter what. He's not your ally, but he'll fight by your side. He's not your boyfriend, but he loves you dearly. His is a pure and platonic love, untainted by sexual feeling." -better than english.) Henceforth, romance just isn't going to happen. Also I like realistic. Kenshin is still getting over Tomoe and due to the very nature of Kenshin's character and Japanese culture, I imagine he stayed celibate until he married Kaoru. If romance does occur, it'll be on the side, between OCs, Okami and her husband (which'll be an OC, of course) or Katsura and Ikumatsu.

_Japanese Words  
__1. Keio 3, 12th Day of the 10__th__ Month_: Japan hadn't adopted the Gregorian calendar until 1872/1873. But for our Western sanity, I listed the date which we understand. Keio is the year (so, year 3 of Keio)  
_2. kuso_: shit  
_3. -gawa_: (suffix) river  
_4. noren_: those curtains in doorways and hanging from roofs, often with slits in them.  
_5. kotatsu_: tables with little furnaces underneath and blankets to keep the heat trapped. THEY ARE DIVINE.  
_6. Maa, maa_: It's like saying, "Now, now…"  
_7. zanshin_: a state of relaxed mental alertness in the face of danger. (I think it would not make that great of a leap for the same relaxed mental alertness to occur when someone is injured, especially Kenshin.)  
_8. yokatta_: good; thank god; all right (I wanted to use Bada bing! But I couldn't find a Japanese equivalent. Ah well.)  
_9. tsusensan_: this isn't officially apart of Kampo medicine, but it was used successfully in a breast tumor surgery by Seishu Hanaoka in 1804. I'm not sure how it's administered, but I'm assuming it is done orally, hence the bitter tea Kenshin drinks.  
_10. ahou_: kansai-dialect for moron (so, really only used in the region of Kyoto. That's why Saito uses it so much! He's a Kyoto native.)  
_11. -dono_: it's an honorific that's higher than sama, and not necessarily used just for ladies. It is used with the utmost respect.  
_12. youkai_: demon; monster

_The Title: [edit 01: 07.22.13]  
_『ただ隠せないもの、飾ったように見せかけて・・・』or the romanization: "Tada kakusenai mono, kattate yori misekakete…" means "The thing that cannot be hidden, pretending like it's been decorated…" It is lyrics from One Ok Rock song, "The Beginning." I wanted to add something special to the chapter titles and have been tossing around a lot of ideas, but it came to me to use actual Japanese. I apologize if your computer cannot comprehend Japanese characters, so I provided the romanization in hopes to make up for it…somewhat. I chose this song in particular because it is the ending song of the "Rurouni Kenshin" film release in 2012. Lyrics and translations are taken from JpopAsia. [This is a shameless plug for the film and One Ok Rock.]

_The Ryokan  
_Kohagi Inn is actually an inn in Hagi, Choshu in the Yamaguchi Prefecture which is 320 miles walking distance from Kyoto. That includes going through Hiroshima, Okayama, past Kobe, and Osaka as well as their prefectures (Hiroshima, Okayama, and Hyogo until entering Kansai prefecture.) I've read quite a few fics that place the Kohagi-ya in Kyoto and I'm going, "No…no…" So, I've chosen a traditional ryokan (I admit it, I didn't do that much research where the Ishin Shishi stayed in Kyoto, but I had to at least find out where the Kohagi-ya was. Hagi. Well, damn. Actually I couldn't find anything outside of the Kohagi-ya and now burnt down Ikeda-ya where the Shishi stayed.) The Hiiragiya Bekkan is a very nice ryokan and has been in operation for the last 200 years. It seems large enough to accommodate Katsura's accompaniment compared to the other ryokans I looked up. At one point it was destroyed and rebuilt just down the street. It seems like a nice secluded place and is only a block away from the Takano River, where the Philosopher's path runs. The Shishi had many hideouts and Katsura is said to have moved around a lot. Who is to say that the Hiiragiya Bekkan wasn't one of many? I also like the Hiiragiya Bekkan's location because it is only separated by one district from the Fushimi Ward, where Sakamoto Ryoma liked to stay at the Terada-ya. It is also close to the Omiya Inn (I believe, I cannot find the exact location) where Sakamoto Ryoma was staying when he was assassinated on December 10, 1867. It is also close to the location where the battle of Toba Fushimi took place.

_Why I mention Wards over Streets  
_That's just how they do things in Japan. Back then and even now today. A lot of streets don't actually have names. How mailing is done is through city, district, ward, and so and so forth through plots. I don't live in Japan, but this is something I noticed upon visiting and receiving mail from there as well as sending my brother (teaches ESL there) mail. IT IS A PAIN. Korea is very much the same, but they attempt street names. IT TOO IS A PAIN, but not as much as. But that's how they do things. Not to say that Japan doesn't have street names...it's just not the norm.

_Kampo Medicine  
_It's rather hard to find culmulative research on Kampo medicine unless you're looking for something specific. While this is a sick-fic, I will not claim master knowledge in the art of pre-Meiji medicinal practices nor medical practices of any sort. Kampo medicine is originally a Chinese system that came to Japan in the early 1500s and grew to extraordinary popularity. I wouldn't be surprised if Megumi is actually a Kampo doctor in _Rurouni Kenshin_. Kampo did decline at one point, but many other sources say that Kampo was considered the go-to when one was feeling ill for a great many things, especially in the courts. (Although, I'm not sure about sword wounds.) With Katsura's power and Sakamoto's influence, I also wouldn't be surprised if they had a Kampo doctor or two on hand. Kampo Medicine was officially outlawed in 1883 with the rise of the meiji government and only in the last 50 years has Kampo been increasing in use (since Nixon). If you want to take a look at Kampo medicine, I suggest kamp dot ca as well as WebMD's short overview on Kampo. "Traditional Japanese Kampo Medicine: Clinical Research between Modernity and Traditional Medicine—The State of Research and Methodological Suggestions for the Future" at Hindawi Publishing is also a good place to start.


	2. I grasped hold of it tightly

2

* * *

『握り締めた失わぬようにと 。』

"Nigirishimeta ushinawanu youni to."

[I grasped hold of it tightly so I won't ever lose it.]

* * *

Kyoto, Japan  
Keio 3, 13th Day of the 10th Month  
Friday, November 8, 1867

Kenshin woke slowly, searching the room for anything amiss, not quite taking in the shadows and sounds. Confused, heated, unfocused…Kenshin felt as if he were dragging his mind through a deepening bog. It set his heart on edge. What of - ? He needn't panic. One thing at a time, Kenshin told himself.

A candle flickered next to his head. His sword lay beside…and Tomoe's scarf. So… at the ryokan. That eased him a little. Kenshin reached out and drew the scarf in close, basking in its scent. Sharp twinges of pain raced through his shoulder and sides, saying he shouldn't move, but Tomoe… Even though the purple material long lost the fragrance of white plums, he could remember it, washing away his weary mind and heart.

Something slipped from his forehead. Kenshin tried focusing on it in the uneven light, but moving sent his sight all dizzy. The heat didn't help. Had Okami struck a fire beneath the floorboards? Winter was coming…

And where was everyone else? Kenshin didn't like this silence: no snores or shuffling of men beneath covers. Where was he? Kenshin chanced opening his eyes - one eye, noticing the scrape of bandages winding around his head - and saw the washcloth. The door behind. His eye trailed along the wall and spied a figure slouched in the corner. Head thrown back and mouth wide open. Only one person slept so vulnerably in all of the Shishi: Osamu.

I'm in the sick room, Kenshin thought numbly. He glanced at the washcloth again, only to curses the quick movement as dizziness threatened his senses. In the back of his mind, "I have a fever," repeated itself. How…? This was bad. If he could not focus…if he had taken ill… or injured, the pain. Katsura would, what would Katsura do? If there was only something he could do about the heat of his own skin.

The washcloth…must be water… an oke. There. Just next to the candle sat the small round wooden bucket. The water would be lukewarm, but that was better than anything.

Once again, Kenshin reach out with strained and stiffened muscles, his sluggish arms dunked the washcloth in and let it soak. Even the tips of his fingers grasped at slight relief of the water's touch. Wincing at the shock of moving his left shoulder, Kenshin lay back on the futon, pulling the cloth along and over this face. He relished the drips that sunk into his skin and hair. Soon, the steady drip-drip lulled Kenshin back to sleep.

A wail woke Kenshin followed by a flurry of robes and crying. "Himura-san…no…no…no…you can't be…wah! You can't be dead!"

Osamu clutched Kenshin's arm, head bowed as his hair tickled his skin. Kenshin tried to move but the man was too enraptured in his woeful imagination. Too bothered to move, Kenshin opened his good eye, seeing only the white cloth, now dry. It was morning as light filtered through. Kenshin felt exhausted despite knowing he'd slept a good while.

"Don't tell me that they're already preparing you for kamidana-fuji….wah-ha-ha! And didn't even wake me…!"

Kamidana-fuji…initial funeral rites…moistening the lips…the white paper…Oh Kami-sama. Kenshin groaned.

Osamu stumbled backward, slamming into the wall with a mix between a yelp and girlish scream. Heavy breaths followed. "Please don't haunt me, Himura-san."

Kenshin pulled the cloth from his face and turned to glare at Osamu, but the dizziness from last night came back in full force. It passed quicker though.

"Osamu-san," Kenshin said surprised his voice came out in a quiet husk. It also found it rather difficult to breathe.

The man froze and cautiously met Kenshin's single beholden eye. Then came the babbling. "I'm so sorry, Himu- I mean, Battousai-san. I promise never to touch you again or - "

"Osamu-san…"

"Or fall asleep on duty or forget directions again….so if there's anything you need - "

"Osamu-san…"

"Water? Do you need water? Maybe another blanket? Ah, you must be hungry. I can get Okami-san-"

"Osamu-san…"

"But you are injured…Fujiwara-senpai should see you first. Is that alright, Battousai-san?"

Kenshin gave up. He sighed. "Yes. Please."

"Really? Yokatta." Osamu smiled and stood. For all Osamu's pandering to Kenshin, he seemed quite at ease around him. "I'll be right back. You just rest and relax -"

But Kenshin didn't want to deal with the funny man's antics later. "Osamu-san…"

Osamu stopped mid-sentence, face blanking out under the force of Kenshin's glare. "…hai?"

"Don't... ever talk to me... again." His voice resonated anger, and while Kenshin was irritated, the fever left him more breathless, having to force out normal words.

Osamu blinked. "…Hai."

With that, he opened the shoji and fled. The shoji slammed shut with a light thunk.

Maybe it was a bit harsh, but Kenshin had every right to not be in the mood for anyone's company. It would forever amaze Kenshin how Osamu made it into the Ishin Shishi, much more into Katsura's accompaniment.

Now that he was alone and feeling slightly better than the night before, he took the chance to catalogue his injuries. The most obvious was the eye. Without seeing or touching it, Kenshin knew he had a huge black eye. His left shoulder ached the worst. A stab wound as well as a slice across the top, connecting old and new injures. With a tender hand, he passed over his chest, he could feel the blossoming bruises. What sort of fight had he gotten into? And his back…it itched horrendously. He considered getting up, but the mere act of sitting might send his head spinning yet again. It didn't help that a pounding in his skull developed while Osamu when on his idiotic tirade. Kenshin sufficed to lay still and maybe fall back asleep until Fujiwara came. Yet, the pain made that impossible.

Too many thought plagued his aching head anyway. He could not remember all the events of the night before. This was more than worrying. Conversations needed to be held.

"Battousai-san?" A voice whispered.

The presence waited and Kenshin half-wanted to be left alone, but he knew the voice to be Isaza, one of the very people he needed to speak with. Just as the man was turning away, Kenshin called out, "I'm awake, Isaza-san. Please come in."

Despite his desire to be as limp as a bonefish, Kenshin sat up. By Kami-sama it hurt. He didn't notice Isaza supporting with arm and hand until his brain decided to right itself.

"You should rest some more, Himura-san," Isaza said. Genuine worry graced his voice.

Kenshin shook his head, not daring any large movement. "No."

Isaza sat silent, Kenshin stilling under the Isaza's scrutiny.

"What is it you came for?" Kenshin asked.

Isaza chuckled. "Quite a few people heard Osamu-san scream like a girl caught with her kimono up a few minutes ago and then run downstairs as if an oni chased his tail. I came to see what happened."

Kenshin sighed. "I'm sure Osamu-san can give you the full story once he stops babbling like an idiot."

"He means well."

Kenshin nodded. "I know."

"Currently he's out running down Fujiwara-senpai. The old man went out to pick up some more supplies. He said to give you this in the meantime." Isaza gestured to a tray laden with a cup and packet of medicine. "It's just a painkiller. Fujiwara-senpai said if you sleep, he wants it to be of your own volition…not a drug. His exact words were: Natural sleep is the best sleep!"

Kenshin gave a grim smile as he recalled the old physician's happy tone. He acted like a child at Nishiki Market on dessert street every time he treated patients. It made things somewhat uncomfortable, as if he enjoyed his patient's pain a bit too much. Regardless, he was a good doctor or Katsura would not have him around. So Kenshin took the proffered tea, hoping his fingers wouldn't shake as he drank it down.

Handing the cup back to Isaza, Kenshin asked the only reason why he let Isaza in. "What happened?"

Isaza took the cup, setting it aside, and gave Kenshin a quizzical look. "What do you mean? Do you not remember?"

"I remember leading the ambushers away and splitting up with you. I remember having to spend most of the evening yesterday," He glanced at Isaza to see if he got his days correct. Isaza nodded. So he was only out for the night. Kenshin continued. "Fighting or running and hiding. They were relentless in their pursuit. But by sunset…after that, it gets all fuzzy."

Isaza pointed to kenshin's head. "I bet it has something to do with that cut on your forehead. Probably hit it when that Shinsengumi bastard pushed you off that bridge."

"I see…" Kenshin said absently. He suppressed the urge to touch the wound. "Did you get the message from Sakamoto-san?"

"Yes, and back to Katura-sama too. When you didn't return by sunset, I went back out after you."

Katsura had tasked them with ferrying message around Kyoto. It was a simple job, or at least, it should have been. The morning went well enough. Munitions and warehouses received their orders and updates were given in return. No fighting was supposed to occur at all, but when Kenshin and Isaza went to go meet Sakamoto Ryoma's messenger, they were delayed. Someone had known they were meeting. Kenshin couldn't remember the Shinsen's face he fought, but felt it was important. Who had known? Had the spy come from Sakamoto's side or their own? All he could recall was the overwhelming emotion of urgency. Nothing besides.

Isaza paused as if gauging what to say next. "I only caught the tail end of your fight. You both ended up in the river, hence your fever. After that, I brought you back here."

Kenshin vaguely recalled being forcefully woken to drink lots of bitter tea and Osamu's annoying voice. He thought that was a bad dream, but his main concern now lay elsewhere. "And the Shinsen?"

"Dead."

"Good."

"Katsura-sama was furious…you can expect a good lecture when you're better, but I really think he was just worried about you."

Kenshin didn't reply. He couldn't expect anything less. It was foolish, very foolish going out on mission when he was not up to full strength. Yet, he he was glad he went on the mission. With his injuries, it meant that if anyone else had gone, they might not have survived. It might've been a vain thought, but…still. The urgency. The fear. Something was deeply wrong.

Exhaustion and stress washed over him. "I should report to Katsura-dono as soon as possible."

"He's busy." Isaza said. It might've been a lie. It might've not been. Either way, Katsura was a busy man and Kenshin wasn't going to fight the issue.

"Plus," Isaza continued. "You need more rest. Fujiwara-senpai will have my hide if I let you out of this room for any reason other than what's necessary. Seeing Katsura right now isn't. He'll come see you when he's finished and you're not about to drop."

Kenshin shot a glare at Isaza, but even he knew that coupled with his tiredness, the effectiveness all but evaporated.

Taking the tray and oke, Isaza left. With no choice - his body being rather demanding today - Kenshin lowered himself down. Within a few minutes, blackness clouded his senses...

drip... drip... drip...

Wash your hands.

drip... tink... silently rolling across cobbled stones. Close your eyes. Turn away. Blood red sakura petals cascade around, billowing - drip... drip... drip...

There's work to be done. Flick your sword and imagine the red splatter flying away. "Clean up this refuse."

Slick with sweat or was it - you need more water. And scrub. Say, scrub! Still not clean. More water. More water. Your heart beats quick and fast. Not enough. Never enough. Just one more, he says.

drip... drip... drip...

Eyes stare back in a milky reflection. The eyes that you've killed, did kill, going to.

drip... drop... drip...

Falling to meet the cold ground. Now, wash your hands. Sleep...

...drip...drop...drip

"Where was Tomoe?"

"I'm here..."

Heavy eyelids blinked. Kenshin squinted in the light. Tomoe...? She knelt next to him, but -

"Himura-san? You awake?"

Brown gi. Male voice. Not Tomoe.

"Gomen..." Kenshin whispered.

"I thought it was strange, you calling me by my given name, but no need," Isaza Toru said. Toru. Tomoe. Toru, Tomoe. He must've mumbled her name out loud.

"Anyway," Isaza continued. "It's I, or rather, we who should say sorry. This is going to hurt."

Kenshin didn't have time to look on his other side as two hands squeezed at his shoulder. Kenshin wouldn't scream, but he wanted to. He grunted in pain and with wide eyes searched for his sword. Instinct. Isaza held Kenshin down. "No use fighting, Himura-san. We got you."

Fujiwara veered into view. "Your wound's infected. That Osamu-kun boy went green in the face once we unwrapped this shoulder of yours. It's a looker! Comes rainbow-colored too!"

That didn't strike Kenshin as something to smile about. Kenshin was far more upset about Fujiwara's lack of rousing him and talking with him, giving no forewarning to the agony he was thrust into. His breath came in shorter bursts than earlier, but managed, "Why...didn't you...wake me?"

"Best not to," Fujiwara said.

Isaza mouthed 'gomen' before cringing as he looked elsewhere, other than Kenshin's shoulder. From the look on Isaza's face, Kenshin was glad he couldn't see, but feeling was a whole other matter. He gritted his teeth, baring through what was now a rough cleaning.

"If you don't pass out, you can take a bath!" Fujiwara kept on.

"I don't like you," Kenshin seethed.

Isaza chuckled from above.

The initial pain faded now to a dull roar. Passing out seemed like a good idea, but the prospect of a bath was far more tempting. Between the heat and stickiness of fever and an excessive thirst hanging in his throat, Kenshin endeavored to stay awake. He licked his chapped lips.

"I'll take that anger as a symptom of the fever," Fujiwara said smiling.

"No, I really don't like you," Kenshin hissed. He really didn't. His distaste for this doctor hadn't quite reached the level of hate he felt for on particular Saito Hajime, but far exceeded his resentment for Seijuro Hiko's arrogance. There was something wrong with all three of them.

"Himura-san isn't one to lie, Fujiwara-senpai," Isaza interjected, still chuckling.

"Ah, all done." As Fujiwara's hands drifted away, Kenshin dragged his now free arm across his body, holding it there. He sat up, glad that he could without his mind flip-flopping inside his skull.

"Here, put this on." Fujiwara pulled out a large square of cloth and handed it to Isaza. Kenshin allowed Isaza to tie the it around his neck and place his arm inside. The sling helped alleviate the weight on his shoulder.

"Can you walk?" Isaza asked.

"You're not carrying me," Kenshin said. With the pain, he didn't want to add humiliation to the list of bad things to happen today.

"Fine, but if you fall," Isaza paused, seemingly contemplating an appropriate consequence. "Fujiwara-senpai will-"

"I know." Kenshin interrupted. He could see Fujiwara humming from the corner of his eye with all the joy of a man having just finished the best meal of his life.

Kenshin drew his knees in and shakily stood. He took a few steps. He'd have to take it slow as a normal pace might incur the wrath of good friend dizziness. What bothered Kenshin was the rapid pounding of his heart matching the pounding headache that decided to make itself known at the very tips of his temples. The shortness of breath hadn't gone away either.

"Be careful!" Fujiwara called as Kenshin and Isaza left the room.

They walked the winding corridors, barley meeting a soul. The mid-afternoon sun basked through cracks in the shoji, the cold held at bay by wood and rice paper. Most of the Shishi would be out and about. Only assassins and night bodyguards worked at night. Yet something still wasn't right. The same nagging feeling from earlier blanketed the ryokan along with the freshly fallen snow.

"Do you feel...we're being watched?" Kenshin whispered.

Isaza, who walked a step behind at Kenshin's side lest he fall, nodded. "What makes you say that?"

"Just a feeling," he murmured. There wasn't anything either of them could do. They were at the ryokan, the safest place at the moment, with walls on all sides. Kenshin didn't sense any strange ki fluctuations or anyone he didn't recognize. Nothing out of the ordinary. If Isaza felt the same too, then it wasn't a byproduct of his fever.

The bath itself was quick and refreshing. While Kenshin longed to stay in, the warm waters threatened with sleep and half an hour later, he sat in front of Fujiwara once again, enduring agony. He packed in herbs and mixtures and finished with a binding. Fujiwara left with no more than a few choice words on natural sleep and drugged tea, only then did he actually disappear.

"I'll stay tonight instead Osamu-san, if you like," Isaza said. Anyone occupying the sick room was expected to have, for lack of a better word, a caretaker. Kenshin didn't hate the notion, but he rather be left alone. The fever had yet to relent, but at least the infection was cleaned. No, what worried Kenshin was if anyone were around if anymore nightmares plagued his mind and released themselves into reality with his voice.

"I'll be fine alone," Kenshin replied.

Isaza reluctantly agreed and left to investigate the ryokan grounds and the Shishi still present, but Kenshin didn't think he'd come up with anything. A feeling was only a feeling after all. Not all of such things should be listened to.

Thoughts returned to Tomoe as he curled in on himself, clutching the purple scarf with a faint aura of white plums.

* * *

Author's Note

_Japanese Words_

1._ Matsugo-no-mizu_: lit. "Water of the last moment;" initial funeral rites where the lips of the dead are moistened.  
2._ Kamidana-fuji_: the whole ceremony, including Matsugo-no-mizu, also consists of either paper or cloth covers the person's face in order to keep impure spirits out. The actual paper of cloth used, I could not find the name of it.  
3._ oke_: wooden pail

_The Title  
_『握り締めた失わぬようにと 。』or the romanization: "Nigirishimeta ushinawanu youni to." means "I grasped hold of it tightly so I won't ever lose it." It is lyrics from One Ok Rock song, "The Beginning."

_Nishiki Market  
_The kitchen of Kyoto! It's over 400 years old…and closes at 9pm. If you ever happen to visit Kyoto, go to Nishiki Market and get some desert there. Of course, they sell more than just treats as it is a market, but Kyoto is known for its sweets. They are delicious.

If you want to try making your own Japanese treat recipes, I recommend Urasenke Midorikai Alumni Association (click on "Recipes" and then on "Wagashi"). [This is a shameless plug for the waning art of tea ceremony in Japan. The tumblr blog, "Midori Kai Musings" – run by a friend – has more information. Don't ask me. I just visited Kyoto for 4 days. I really should put a section for shameless plugs.]

_Review Responses  
_**Sacred Sword Heart**: Likewise, I agree. Kenshin isn't invincible.  
**Mountain Wanderer**: With the amount of reading and research I've been doing, I hope it's authentic...I just freaking love Japan and Japanese culture. I'm so happy that you enjoy this and that it made you laugh! By older woman, I hope you mean mature. I know I'm getting to be a quarter of a century old, but still, hahaha!


	3. Interlude: Beginnings

Interlude

* * *

『開闢』

"Kaibyaku"

[Beginnings]

* * *

"How is he?" Katsura Kogoro sat across from Physician Fujiwara Hideki. Instead of sending for him, Katsura took the chance to escape his sullen hideout and its many demands in favor of stretching his legs and finally seeing about one Himura Kenshin. They retreated to one of the many lonely sitting rooms, a portable iron furnace sitting in the alcove.

Fujiwara replied, "Still much to be done. He's not out of danger yet."

They sipped hot sake, but it tasted of ash in Katsura's mouth. Despite Fujiwara's ministrations, Kenshin was not healing as Fujiwara liked.

"He's restless," the physician continued. He tipped the sake bottle once more to Katsura's cup and Katsura refused him and so proceeded to pour for himself, finding there was no more left. He sighed. "Just because he's coherent now and feels well enough to walk around, the infection may overpower him... Himura-san will not eat and his sleep is troubled. If he rests, as I tell him to, he should be fine, but..."

Fujiwara trailed off.

Restless. That wasn't unexpected. When he looked in on the young man earlier, Kenshin had willingly taken to the futon. An abnormal action, which worried Katsura. Doing so meant Kenshin knew himself to not be strong enough to simply suffer through any injuries and a mild fever as he might so easily brush off before. Kenshin did not like enforced leisure.

"Feeling idle," he had said the first time he'd been bedridden. Katsura had not heard a word from him for two days.

As if Fujiwara were reading his thoughts, he said, "I think it's just exhaustion. You've been running him ragged, Katsura-san."

"Exhausted?" The notion caught Katsura somewhat off guard. Surely Kenshin was the one who begged in that brooding quiet way of his to go back to work. His vigor had returned and Kenshin was becoming a nuisance to the other men, pacing, watching from corners or perches, waiting as if to strike, and even took to helping Okami with the cleaning and cooking. Not a man's job, but Kenshin said he was bored and restless. Even so, Katsura had seen Kenshin tired after a night's work, especially when he first began as a hitokiri, and Kenshin was always up and ready the next day with such relentless strength. Now, exhausted...had he misread Kenshin yet again?

"It has been a trying few months," Katsura said, setting his sake cup down and then added almost absently, "But Kenshin's life has always been so."

Fujiwara nodded, humming, and downed another cup, having found the other bottles Okami left for them. He poured more for Katsura and himself. Katsura watched, but did not drink.

Was Kenshin's life made more trying because of his decisions? He was so sure when he saw the young boy with the Kiheitai, used him, his idealism, his skills to make him a hitokiri. Kenshin accepted it without question or complaint, but the young man he met drifted away, shutting down, shifting inside himself that called Katsura to question himself and his decisions. Then Tomoe came and she was his retribution, a sheath for Kenshin, so that he might learn to live again, only to end up as a broken sheath. Yet, her memory seemed to suffice enough, giving Kenshin purpose, a will to live, but was her memory truly enough? Of course it had to be. Kenshin wasn't considering death. He was merely exhausted.

"It is a trying time for all of us," Katsura said. "I did not think this might happen now."

"Yes, yes... Everything's is riding on Sakamoto-san's negotiations, is it not?" Fujiwara murmured.

"We must be prepared in any case. The negotiations may bring us to battle. I'll have preparations made for you and Kenshin to be brought to another safe house should anything arise." Katsura said.

"And you?"

"I have not decided yet." Katsura left the matter there. There were only a few more pushes until the defeat of the Shogunate and their Bakufu was assured to be in the Ishin Shishi's hands. Nagasaki helped immensely, but that was only the start. The next step was to have the 30 year-old Shogun Yoshinobu, only a year of power to his reign, step down, and give governing power back to the Emperor. Submit, so to speak. Katsura knew that even if Yoshinobu abdicated, the rest of the Shogunate would not stand idly by.

Battles would come again. Katsura felt the weight of all these years of fighting. All the machinations for Sonno Joi finally coming to light, taking root, but still so far to go. Only the beginning of a better Japan. Katsura too, felt exhausted.

He almost laughed. One might not think youth, so full of vigor and might, to tire of their decorous duties. Kenshin was not exhausted for sake of wounds, but because of endless battles, being caught between losing it all or gaining only a small step in their great effort. Only now, just under five years of service to Katsura, was that effort starting to come to fruition. Five years was a long time for someone only eighteen.

"Will Kenshin have strength enough to speak with me tomorrow?"

"If all's well in the morning, I don't see why not. Just be careful to wake him first. The boy's been talking in his sleep lately." Fujiwara clapped twice as if he were at a shrine, warding off impure spirits and praying for good health.

_You should never converse with someone talking in their sleep. Those are the words from the land of utopia._ An old proverb. Utopia. Kenshin's soul still yearned for Tomoe, but worry for Kenshin's soul was not the first thought on Katsura's mind. Kenshin's stubborn idealism proved to be a formidable force. No. Katsura worried what the rest of his accompaniment might say or do if they heard his words.

"Spirits know Himura-san could use _that _rest." That rest. The rest from utopia. A peace and quieting of the soul to ease before meeting the next day's struggles.

"Has he spoken of anything?" Katsura asked.

"Nothing recognizable, but Osamu-san stayed with him last night. If you're thinking what I think you're thinking, Himura-san asked to be alone tonight." Fujiwara caught Katsura's frown. "Don't worry. He'll be looked in on."

"I understand. Please take the utmost care of him. He must live." A final thought trailed behind: I owe him that much.

Fujiwara nodded, understanding. He'd run out of hot sake again. He straightened in his zaizu, betraying no aspect of a drunken man and bowed his head. "Is there anything else you wish to know, Katsura-san?"

Fujiwara had been one of the few doctors then Ishin Shishi could got to before they'd gained a firm foothold on Japan. A loyal patriot. The epitome of respect. Katsura had heard stories otherwise. He smiled. His easy and silly demeanor masked him from the Shogunate. Stand out in a crowd and no one will suspect you. But while Fujiwara could wander free, Kenshin spent most of his time hidden away at the inn or secluded bars in the dead of night.

"No, I believe that is all. It's still rather early. If there is nothing that needs your attention, please enjoy the night." Katsura drank the last of his sake and bade Fujiwara go. The man did.

The men had already returned for the night and reported in. No news came of the spies that so wounded Kenshin. If there was another spy like I'izuka, Katsura wanted to know quickly. He couldn't afford another mishap that more than likely led to the Ikedaya Affair, being driven from Kyoto, the loss of Tomoe, and the near loss of Kenshin. Katsura trusted his number two man, Uchida, and Isaza, who brought Kenshin back, but who else could it be?

Isaza reported that the Shinsengumi's or Mimawarigumi's movements had not deviated from the norm nor done anything that might prove the Hiiragiya to be found. Ryoma's reply announced the same. Nothing unusual, but he would do his own internal investigation of the men staying with him.

What he needed was to look in on the men without their knowing. Katsura knew the perfect place.

On the second floor was a small room. It overlooked the main communal hall and the shoji opened up so that guests could look down if they so desired. He called Okami-san, to set it up, but be discreet. She complied, bringing in tea and charcoal for the kotatsu. He burned no lanterns in hopes to bring no attention to himself. Katsura sat against the wall and slid open the shoji an inch.

"Aniki... why...how do you keep winning?" Yasuo, their youngest aside from Kenshin, twenty, sat across from his older brother, Tetsuo. Tetsuo obviously won again at dice. Yasuo flopped backward, writhing like a child on the tatami.

Tetsuo poured himself some sake, shaking his head. "Because you are a baka and never listened to aniki."

They had an older brother also in the Shishi, Matsuo, but he was the strong silent type and only occasionally came out to play games. "Now get up before someone steps on you."

"Hai! Oh, konbanwa Osamu-san! Are you not with..." Yasuo sat up and paused, glancing around, then whispered. "Battousai-san tonight? How is he? He nearly kill you again?"

Osamu settled next to them, rubbing his belly, obviously just finished with dinner. "You needn't be afraid of Himura-san. You are older than him."

"Says the man who ran away this morning." Tetsuo snorted into his sake.

"I may have...provoked... him." Osamu mumbled.

A voice interjected from another table, next to theirs, Uchida, who was conversing with Kano and two others, asked,"What, did you mention Gion again?"

"No..." Osamu averted his eyes. Katsura mused he must've mentioned it at some point. An amused grin spread across his face.

"What happened in Gion with Battousai-san? No one will tell me."

Uchida, Tetsuo, and Osamu waved hands and arms in front of their faces as if trying to dissipate a bad smell.

"No need for you to know."

"Can't say a word about it."

"Hai. Hai. Himura-san will only get more angry."

Yasuo pouted. "Urusai yo..."

Katsura relaxed. At least these men felt it good to keep information about Kenshin a secret, even from their own it seemed. Of course, Katsura knew the details of Gion full and well, but he too would never reveal the truth of the matter.

Katsura got up in the dark room and crossed over to the hall. The night would reveal nothing with Katsura's most trusted man in the room. He saw Akane-chan, the sweet servant girl, hurrying down a corridor with a laundry basket with fresh clean clothes folded inside. She stopped, bowed, and motioned to continue on her way when Katsura called out to her. "Akane-chan. Please inform Okami-san I'd like to see her."

He wouldn't risk the girl informing the other men telling Uchida where he was. Okami would be discrete about it.

"Hai, Katsura-sama," She bowed once more and rushed off.

Katsura retreated to his position. He did not turn from looking back down on his men as Okami knocked.

"Katsura-san? You requested me?"

"I'd like to speak with Uchida. Please send him up here." He turned, giving her a knowing smile. She bowed, understanding the need for secrecy. He watched as she fetched Uchida and directed him to follow her. The flow of conversation had not interrupted at all.

Okami slid the shoji open and with a finger to her lips, bade Uchida enter. Katsura motioned for Uchida to sit across the kotatsu from him in the darkened room. Katsura could see the realization of Katsura's intentions dawning on his features as he settled down, cracking the shoji just enough. No one below noticed their movements.

They turned to listen in on the conversations and while many touched on topics close to their Battousai, none told of relaying information critical to the Ishin Shishi. No one mentioned Kenshin by name either. Out of sight, out of mind. Until, it seemed Yasuo was the only one interested in their Battousai. "I heard he killed over five hundred people before the Ikedaya Affair. Is that true?"

"How fools persist," Osamu muttered, mussing Yasou's hair. "You're like a little kid compared to him."

"Oi."

"How many though?" Tetsuo asked. He pulled another sake flask and cup from a nearby empty table and poured some for Osamu. "It is not often the truth of Hitokiri Battousai is discussed."

Osamu shifted where he sat, a clear expression of discomfort on his face. He rubbed his forehead as if willing away a headache, "Around a hundred... I think. I wasn't back then an examiner, so I can't say."

I'izuka flashed in Katsura's memory. Kenshin's official cleanup man, an examiner. Osamu too must've felt uneasy and so changed the subject. He leaned forward with a smile on his face. "But if we're comparing rumors. I like the one where he's a demon."

Tetsuo sniggered, "Six feet tall, wild yellow eyes, and hair made of flames? You listen to too many folk tales, like Yasuo here."

"He does have the hair though. It is rather abnormal for Japanese," Yasuo said. He was trying to sound smart.

"It's possible he has gaijin heritage. The Kirishitan did come to Japan about 300 years ago. I think they were from Spain, but they didn't last 50 years before being executed." Another voice entered the conversation. Isaza. He sat down at the only open side of the small table. "You're lucky he's asleep."

Heads nodded, thinking. Lucky indeed they were that Kenshin was asleep. It wasn't that Kenshin didn't like gaijin or the possible associations to a banned religion that still hid in the deepest pockets of Japan. Neither carried any weight to who Kenshin was. Kenshin was Japanese, was born here, lived the Japanese way, and would until the day he died. No. What Kenshin didn't like was the drawing of attention to himself unless absolutely necessary.

"Oh, Isaza-san. Have some sake," Tetsuo broke from his reverie and poured a cup for their friend. "You're not with him tonight either?"

Isaza shook his head. "Prefers to be alone. I don't blame him. Fujiwara-senpai did a real number on him."

Osamu turned green. "That old man needs to retire."

"A number on Battousai-san? And he just let him? No -" Yasuo glanced between Isaza and Osamu. The full concentration of his ignorance blazed in his wide eyes.

Tetsuo kicked his brother from under the kotatsu. "Fujiwara-senpai has treated Himura-san before. They both have been with the Shishi for a very long time. You know that...ba- ka-."

"Can't trust him though." Osamu muttered. He grabbed the dice, tossed them in the cup, and shook it.

"Who? Battousai-san or Fujiwara-senpai?" He dodged another kick from Tetsuo. Osamu dropped the cup to the table and took bets from Tetsuo and Yasuo.

Isaza ignored Yasuo, directing his comment at Osamu. "You just say that because you don't like how he treats people."

"He's distant and self-absorbed." This time Kano interjected. He puffed out smoke from his pipe.

Isaza turned to face the short stocky man. "Maybe-so, but he also cares a great deal."

Katsura frowned from his perch. It was true. Fujiwara did have a knack for ignoring other people. He was a doctor and listened to their physical pains, taking note of their symptoms. When working, he focused on the patient to be healed. Nothing else. Doctoring was not a profession for the weak of heart.

"Sure, sure. He's loyal. I get that. No argument here. But caring? Ha ha! As if a hitokiri cares."

The pair stared at each other. Confused faces passed around. Kano, perplexed at the silence, hesitated and continued, "Who are you talking about?"

"...Fujiwara-senpai."

Kano frowned. "Tch. My offense is not with the good physician, but my statement still stands. It's just a matter of time before he goes on a killing spree."

"Himura-san isn't like that," Isaza said. "Osamu-san knows it to. We've been here a long time."

Tension flared between Isaza and Kano. Chattering hadn't died from the other corners of the room. Osamu licked his lips, the dice game lay forgotten on the table. He used the one thing he was good at in hopes to diffuse the situation: talking.

"Hai, hai. I wasn't here when he first arrived, but he, what do you call it?" Osamu asked, scratching his head. He didn't direct his words at anyone in particular, but spoke to the group as a whole. "He was terrifying for a while, but he went into hiding like most of us after Kimon no Hen. He returned in late winter with Katsura-sama. He's been...really, what's the word? Isaza-san, help?"

Isaza thought a bit before replying. "I would say...fulfilling kaizen as best as he can."

Continuous improvement for the better. The word encompassed many different things and was mostly used for business, but the basic concept was still there. Katsura remembered how Kenshin said that after he'd finished fighting for the Shishi, he would never kill again. Maybe not throw down his sword completely, but each day Kenshin lived, he sought to improve himself and to atone. Maybe Kenshin's small incremental changes did not have any root for those who joined after the Shishi's regrouping, but for those who did know him before...maa, hai. Kaizen indeed.

Kano smoldered. He looked as if he wanted to continue the argument, but huffed and turned away to converse with the other two at his table.

"And that," Osamu leaned close to Tetsuo and Yasuo so only they could hear, but Katsura could read his lips from above. "Is why we don't talk about Battousai-san."

* * *

Author's Note

_Japanese Words  
_1. _zaisu_: floor chairs with a back  
2. _aniki_: honorable older brother  
3. _Urusai yo_: Shut up. / You're being loud/annoying/noisy.  
4. _gaijin_: foreigner  
5. _kaizen_: technically the word didn't come into existence until 1959, but I'm going to ignore that for now. It serves my purposes.

_Kirishitan  
_lit. Christians; Christians, or more specifically Catholics, from Spain and Portugal did arrive in Japan around in around 1543. Along with Shogunate Toyotomi Hideoyoshi and Tokugawa Ieyasu, in the early 1600s, they actively dissuaded the people from adopting Christianity. By 1630, people had to submit a certificate in affiliation to a Buddhist temple. This, of course, isn't the first time that Christians came to Japan. The first recorded instance is said to be in 199 AD.

The reason I mention this is because of a Kabuki drama I had the privilege of seeing in Osaka. The kabuki drama, Goemon, (thank goodness not like the movie), takes on the same role as Robin Hood. But one of Goemon's main characteristics was his red hair. The reason for this? He had a Spanish missionary father that was exiled from Japan under the Toyotomi's regime. It was a very fun drama with lots of Spanish flamenco music and tap dancing. I did not see the official "Ishikawa Goemon" kabuki, but one of its many adaptions.

"It is the time after the unification of Japan by Toyotomi Hideyoshi in the 16th century. There are several cathedrals seen in each place of Japan as a few decades have passed since Christianity has first been missioned in Japan. Ishida no Tsubone, a daughter of Akechi Mitsuhide's chief retainer Shioden Tajima no kami, hates Hideyoshi and seeks opportunity to avenge her father on him. As she learns Christianity from Father Calderon, she has come to forget her hatred against Hideyoshi. Love has grown between her and Calderon, and Tomoichi is born between them. Calderon resigns as a priest because he has broken the law as a priest, and chooses to live together with his wife and son. 7 years later Hideyoshi prohibits Christianity to be propagated in Japan. Calderon is banished from Japan and goes back to Spain. Hideyoshi wants to make her his own and summons her to his palace Jurakudai, since he has fancied her for years. She tries in vain to kill him and dies. Having lost his parents, Tomoichi grows up to be a robber and calls himself Ishikawa Goemon who causes a great sensation in Japan. He watches eagerly for a chance to avenge his parents on Toyotomi outwits Hideyoshi and succeeds in freeing Izumo no Okuni from him. She is Nagoya Sanza's wife and a popular dancer in Kyôto. It turns out that Sanza is a son of Akechi Mitsuhide's retainer Yasuda , Okuni and Sanza cooperate to defeat their common enemy Hideyoshi. Okuni takes great pains how she becomes the center of attention among teaches her flamenco the dance of his father's country as a hint for the new dance. But Goemon is being besieged from all sides." - "Ainosuke & Young actors in GOEMON 石川五右衛門at Shochikuza, Osaka on Feb. 17" at _Yoshie's Review of Performing Arts in Japan _(bit confusing...I know...in the play, Sanza isn't explained very well and he kind of just shows up out of the blue.)

_Tales of the Otori _by Lian Hearn_  
_If someone wants to read a story, or, er, quadrilogy (technically it's a trilogy with a prequel), I recommend Tales of the Otori by Lian Hearn. It takes place in and around Hagi (where the Kohagi-ya is!), with amazing research done into the history and culture of Japan, as well as mentioning "The Hidden" which can be easily assumed to be Christians. It is marketed as fantasy story and the dates are never specified, but the novels certainly aren't HIGH fantasy. It's woven naturally throughout the story...and actually, I don't really see it as fantasy, but as a prenatural feudal Japan.

_Sonno Joi_  
The Ishin Shishi's slogan and edict of Emperor Komei in 1863. (尊皇攘夷 Revere the emperor, expel the barbarians.) Barbarians, meaning Westerners. This was mainly due to Americans being pushy about opening trade with Japan. James Biddle, then Matthew Perry... who threatened war. The "Joi" part came about first because many Japanese felt threatened by the black ships, calling them bakemono, great monsters. The Japanese felt okay with trading with other countries, despite what the Shogunate said, but they were scared of being taken over by Western powers and in effect, losing their culture, duped into subservience and loss of what made them Japanese. Sakamoto Ryoma too felt this way, but felt that he'd rather learn from Western Powers to ensure that they didn't overpower Japan. He knew that Japan was far inferior to Western powers technologically. Others, however, did not feel the same and so the death of Charles Lennox Richardson happened, and the shelling of Shimonoseki and the Bombardment at Kagoshima. Now include the civil war between Shogunate - who were allowing trade with Western powers - and Anti-Shogunate supporters - who felt threatened by Western Powers. This is putting it rather simply and there's a whole lot more to it, but this is technically the stance. This is evidenced by the fact that while the Shishi endorsed Joi, Satsuma did have close ties with the West, buying weapons, ships, and other technology too. Ryoma is a interesting character because he neither supported Shogunate or Shishi. He was ronin in the truest sense of the word - a samurai with no master.

This was hard to tiptoe around in this chapter with Kenshin's red hair. Personally, from what I can gather, I think the Shishi focused more on the sonno part of sonno joi (revere the emperor) than expelling barbarians. They followed the "expel the barbarians" part of their slogan moreover because the emperor said so, not because they actually hated Westerners. Japan doesn't strike me as a country that holds grudges (unlike Korea, but that's a whole other topic). How Kenshin acts and talks about the new era and whenever westernization becomes a focal point in the manga/anime reflects this. As for the rest of the Ishin Shishi, that's entirely debatable.

_You should never converse with someone talking in their sleep. Those are the words from the land of utopia.  
_This isn't a real proverb. I'm actually adding in another shameless plug for a different manga/anime: Mushishi. (Ep: 4; The Pillow Pathway). That manga/anime is said to take place in the imaginary time between the Edo and Meiji periods. I really hesitated putting this in, but I wanted to add in something that speaks to the many superstitions that Japan carries, and probably still adhered to before westernization took place. It also seems to fit in their roundabout sort of way with what's going on in Kenshin's head. (Roundabout meaning that saying anything too directly in Japan is considered rude. Their thinking seems to lean this way as well.)

_Title  
_開闢 or Kaibyaku means "beginnings, creation, founding (of empire)." Found from EUdict com. (European Dictionary online.) I chose this because I mention a lot of different sorts of beginnings in this chapter: beginnings of events in history, beginnings of decisions, and beginnings for this story in particular. Beginnings in general.

_Review Responses  
_**Sacred Sword Heart**: True! In a way, I also think he's counting down to when he can finally leave the battlefield.  
**chouberiba**: Thank you for reading! I'm so glad you enjoy this. I often wonder if the writing gets too boring...  
**phillida**:I'm sorry to have offended you. Thank you for your kind help!  
**Mountain Wanderer**: To say I'm utterly flabbergasted at the success of Osamu's character is an understatement. Originally I didn't plan on him being too much a part of the story, being a bit ridiculous. I know this chapter lacks his humor, but I'm working hard. Writing humor is not one of my strong points. I see! You mean that "older woman." It would be better if her name was capitalized. I've read "Ichirizuka." For me, it drags on just a tad, but it's a good story, and she is a wonderful writer.


	4. because if I open my hands

3

* * *

『。。。手を広げれば零, れ落ちそうで。』

"…te wo hirogereba, koboreochisou de."

[…because if I open my hands, then it'll just escape my grasp.]

* * *

Kyoto, Japan  
Keio 3, 14th Day of the 10th Month  
Saturday, November 9, 1867

Every focus. Every deep-seated instinct. Everything that kept him alive. All of it was off. Vaguely he felt hands fondling the bandages about his head and trailing to his neck.

"Fujiwara-senpai?" Kenshin whispered. He reached to grab at the wrist, but it pulled away. Kenshin struggled to open his bleary eyes... something, in the air. He felt sick.

"Shh..." But the presence said no more.

Why could he not open his eyes? So... tired...and such a sweet smell in the room. Just as Kenshin's good eye snapped open, he sat up, and the rough coarse material of cloth tightened around his neck.

He couldn't see who was choking him. The attacker slipped behind, wrapping legs around his waist so Kenshin could not turn around. What a fool I am, Kenshin thought.

Elbowing the other in the gut, Kenshin felt the slight release on his neck and tugged at the cloth. In the dim light, he saw it was Tomoe's. He barely had time to slip his wrist through before his opponent pulled harder, choking him once more. Or, trying to. At least now he could breathe, yet staying awake was a struggle. What was in the air? Kenshin saw only the faint traces of smoke, but no incense or any other substance burning. Neither could he see his daisho. Both katana and wakizashi were missing.

He elbowed again, with the other arm, sending a spasm through his shoulder and threw himself backwards into his opponent's embrace. Kenshin jabbed upward with the flat of his hand, aiming for the nose, but the move was awkward and had hardly enough force to ram the other's nasal cartilage into his brain. He missed. Surprised, the black-clad figure fell to the floor, releasing his grip on Kenshin.

Kenshin rolled off and to the other side of the room, taking a defensive stance. He glared at the black-clad figure. Slowly, still observing the other, Kenshin pulled the purple material from around his neck and let it drop. Just yesterday he was gasping for breath, today his breathing slowed. Sleepy despite the adrenaline...and more nauseous than he cared to admit. Now, he recognized the smell. Opium.

"Who are you?" Kenshin whispered.

This stranger, this spy no doubt, had the upper hand. He could fight with no blade, but still...Kenshin's eyes searched his opponent whose face and body was fully covered except for the eyes. Hardened eyes, white and blank. Could he trust his own eyes?

Without so much as a swipe of the hand, the figure tossed fine powder into the air, spreading over Kenshin, but covering the entire room. Kenshin threw up his arms, blocking the spray from entering his good eye, knowing what was coming next. He stepped forward, meeting the figure in the middle of the room.

He'd meant to draw his own blade, but Kenshin grabbed the hilt mid-draw, taking it and the sheath from the other's side. Pain erupted in his shoulder and sides as the other bowled into him. With a final bat to his head, Kenshin was forced to his knees, dizzy from the pain. Seconds passed and the attacker was nowhere to be seen, leaving an open window in his wake with snow billowing inside.

Using the katana to help him stand, Kenshin tiptoed over to the window, back to the wall. He glanced outside, checking left, right, below, and above. Kenshin saw nothing along the mukuri-yane. No tracks lead down into the snow-covered courtyard. The peace, the stillness, this polar beauty reminded Kenshin of Otsu... he shook off the thoughts and wasting no time, Kenshin climbed up to the roof. The tiles were slick with snow and the morning dawn light blurred through fog and still pouring snow. Yet there were the footprints.

The attacker's tracks lead up and over to the east wing. Kenshin followed them, hoping to find the maker before they faded with the falling whiteness. The world sat silent. So silent that the puffs of snow landing and falling masked all sound. The crunch beneath his feet echoed like a warning bell, an intrusion upon the morning.

Kenshin shuffled along the top edge of the roof, grasping where he could despite the icy sting to his fingers. While his shoulder and side protested his movements, Kenshin crossed to the east wing's wall, slid down, and landed in the street. The other had started running, the footprints spread further apart and less scuffing of snow, meaning his opponent had some form of training.

Kenshin followed. His feet had gone numb and only dressed in the yukata, everything ached. But he must find this spy. This traitor. The tracks led Kenshin down a series of alleyways and once or twice he lost the trail, but they had taken him in a circle before leading him to the cherry tree lined canal. Where buildings stood high and separate, they shadowed and darkened his way. The white blanked out the dark roofs, opening up the sky. To Otsu...Where was Tomoe? He'd come to take her back.

"Yoshinobu Tatsumi..." Kenshin murmured staring up at the de-flowered cherry trees.. He shivered, but his skin burned. A minor headache rose up in the back of his mind. Pain burned in his shoulder and he could feel the opening of old wounds blossom red on his chest.

This was not the right place.

He'd lingered too long. The tracks were...behind him. Kenshin turned and made his way through the shadowed paths where buildings turned to great trees, the silence gave way to deafness, snow to blindness, and thoughts to the Forest of Barriers.

A screamed erupted somewhere up ahead of him. Kenshin rushed towards it. Tomoe...must be Tomoe. But...she didn't... Kenshin stopped in front of the Hiiragiya Bekkan. The door stood ajar and a short stocky man stood in the way. Surprise bloomed on his face at the sight of Kenshin, "What?"

"I'm taking Tomoe back." Kenshin's voice came out quieter than he'd expected and his head ached oh so much. "Yoshinobu Tatsumi."

"What? Battousai-san? What are you doing?" The man stepped forward. No, shoved aside by a woman. Tomoe...Okami? Their figures blurred, aligned, and blurred again.

"Himura-san!" She called.

Kenshin gripped the kanata in his hand tighter and as he drew it, his eyes spun and he meant to step forward. Meant to fight this man, but he stumbled, his head dropping into darkness.

Several times he woke. The first was to Fujiwara's angry voice. "Why was he outside in the first place? Did anyone go check on him?"

His mind could no longer focus on the words and so faded away to harsh stabs and rough handling. Tomoe and I'izuka visited in the black-coal spaces somewhere between waking and sleeping. He's a hitokiri. He's growing weak. She's the traitor. Kenshin sat up, but immediately hands pushed him back and a nasty concoction was forced down his throat. Fujiwara said, "There, there" in a sweet motherly voice. How unfitting of him.

The third time was to silence, a soft sigh, the movement of a dry cloth replaced with a wet one. Blessed darkness took stronger hold. Kenshin receded into a dreamlessness.

Shouting pounded through the door. "He's a danger to us all! You saw Isaza-san - He... _that_ hitokiri_ also_ pulled a katana on Kano-san! With Isaza-san's own blade! Don't tell me he didn't - didn't -"

Kenshin turned on his side. No one else was in the room with him, a different one than before. Fuzziness clouded his brain and his head felt heavy. He turned to look at the shoji, the figure's silhouettes shadowing through.

"We don't know the full story!" Kenshin recognized Osamu. He was struggling to hold back another...Tetsuo? Yasuo? Someone else? They stilled and heavy breathing followed. "I know how you feel. But... let's wait."

"Wait? How can you say that? Who knows when this _demon_-"

"Wait till Katsura-sama returns. There are more important matters at the moment! You know this."

When did Osamu become so...wise?

Fujiwara appeared from the side, apparently from down the hall, recognized by his protruding belly. "What's this? Go before you wake my patient!"

Kenshin watched as Fujiwara waited in the hall until he was sure that the offender had gone. Osamu lingered behind asking quiet questions. Kenshin assumed about himself. He could not catch the words and so lay back on the futon, receding once more into its warmth.

"Himura-san... Himura-san..." Osamu's voice. A hand rocked his shoulder, but not too hard. Kenshin had already been woken several times and while feeling a little better each time, Kenshin felt he could use just a little more rest. Just enough so his mind could clear.

"I'll pour cold water on you, Himura-san."

Kenshin rolled over even though it wasn't a good idea to lay on his bad shoulder. He had no energy for this.

"You- wahhhhhhh..." Osamu let out a long deep and angry sigh that meandered into something reminiscent of a dramatic kabuki show. "It's like being denied the offering of good sake by a sweet and beautiful geisha."

Kenshin tensed. Please not now.

Yet Osamu said nothing. They sat without words, something which seemed strange in the company of this boisterous man. Osamu never played the trick of feigning sadness before, gaining a laugh out of someone's care if only it was with happy eyes and a much too quivering pout to be realistic. Osamu's only reply was a depressed sigh.

Sitting up and turning around, Kenshin faced Osamu. "What is it?"

"Are you feeling better?" Osamu asked. He betrayed no emotion. Neither joy nor sadness. But without his constant cheer, Osamu always seemed the latter.

The truth was, his fever had yet to break and going out in the cold snow, inhaling the opium - Kenshin didn't know how much - and the attack itself left him exhausted. From this morning, yes, he felt better, but from yesterday, Kenshin felt much worse. Only now did he notice his shaking fingers. How cold he felt inside. His lack of response was enough for Osamu.

Osamu gave a waned smile. "Maybe I should rephrase that. Are you well enough to eat? And Katsura-sama would like to speak with you."

Katsura! Kenshin had completely forgotten to speak with Katsura, so consumed by his ailing body. Kenshin nodded. Osamu motioned to a food placed on the hakozen next to him. The food was covered with a cloth and pulling it away, Kenshin noticed the bareness of it. Okayu and tea, no doubt infused with Fujiwara's medicines.

Osamu stood to go, but Kenshin reached out and gripped the man's gi, just under the wrist. "Osamu-san. What has happened?"

A look of surprise crossed Osamu's face, as if he didn't expect Kenshin, former hitokiri, to care about the on goings inside the Ishin Shishi, of what occurred between the men and their bonds, their reasons for fighting in this civil war. How could a cold-blooded killer, a demon they say, care? Kenshin hoped, longed for atonement, a release from that horrid reputation, yet here he was...failing. A repentant heart was not enough. How did one go about atonement in the first place?

"Please," Kenshin whispered. "What has happened?"

Osamu knelt once more, a simple smile of his returning. "How do I begin?"

"I heard someone mention Isaza-san before." Kenshin chanced.

"Mmm," Osamu bit his lip. "This morning - Ah! I'm not good with words...demo, Okami-san found Isaza-san... dead."

"What?" Kenshin gasped. "How...? Why...?"

"Ah, that's what everyone wants to ask you." Hesitant, Osamu chuckled then dropped to a more serious tone, "Because...he was stabbed through with your blade. Right in the entryway. Then you showed up outside..."

He shrugged. "Everyone's a bit confused."

Kenshin hung his head. "I see."

Would they believe him if he said he did not kill Isaza? That he trusted the man with his life? Yet the confusion of the fever and opium...what had he done?

Shifting to kneel, Kenshin bowed low. "Ikenai koto o shimashita."

"Hi- Himura-san!" Osamu spluttered. "Please... don't. You should speak with Katsura-sama."

Kenshin lifted his face, watching as Osamu stood and shuffled away, quicker than someone who was just going to send a message. Was it going to be like this always? How uncomfortable he made even the very people he spent everyday with, ate, slept, and fought with. Conversations in itself leaned in unnatural directions. An apology, even more so...it seemed.

"Don't make people so uncomfortable. Aa, you're so tight-lipped sometimes." I'izuka once said. Despite the man's betrayal, he did at times, offer good advice, yet Kenshin never could seem to hold a decent conversation without someone at some point feeling threatened. A _demon_…

Shivers crawled out of the core of his body. His fingers trembled and Kenshin sat back on his haunches as kneeling in that straight-backed position strained his stiff muscles. Kenshin glanced at the rice porridge, but the thought of eating made him all the more nauseous.

Isaza-san, dead. People died in strife-ridden times like these, but still -

The shoji slid open, revealing Katsura. "Konbanwa, Kenshin."

"Konbonwa," Kenshin said, bowing his head. "Is it evening already?"

Katsura sat, "Yes. I see you haven't eaten. Fujiwara said you've been neglecting to eat."

Kenshin bowed his head once more. "I'm sorry."

He didn't offer any excuses. Kenshin wanted to get better, hence taking to the futon and sleeping for the past several days. Food itself disagreed with his stomach, but Fujiwara, all-knowing in his doctoring ways, obviously gave instructions for the okayu.

Katsura seemed to pick on Kenshin's lack of desire to pursue the subject and spoke, "You know why I'm here."

"Yes," Kenshin said, not bothering to look in Katsura's eyes. Grief coupled with guilt reflected in his own.

"It's best you start when you went out with Isaza."

Quelling his trembling and rebelling body, Kenshin began. The first snow had yet to fall, and chill autumn still clung to the air. He told of each message they ferried, every person they spoke with, the warehouses, and little restaurant they stopped to eat for lunch, where and when they saw anyone of the Shinsengumi or Mimawarigumi, and how hectic the streets seemed in wake of the possibility of restoring Imperial Rule. Many more citizens had taken to the streets in religious celebrations, their shouts and clanging of bells could be heard from afar.

"Eejanaika! Eejanaika!" They chanted. They were a nice barrier from the angry Shinsengumi, with their confetti – or at one point, Kenshin saw, falling ofuda - carnival masks or painted faces, close-knit dancing, and other more questionable activities for the street. The Shinsengumi, who were on the constant lookout for Sakamoto Ryoma, were easy to lose in the confusion if Kenshin or Isaza happened to be followed.

Yet nothing gave any indication that they were.

It was mid-afternoon when they ran into trouble, right in the middle of one of the Eejanaika celebrations. Of course, Kenshin and Isaza stuck out like sore thumbs, dressed in regular attire, but it was nice for once, not being singled out for his hair in a group of people. They'd taken it as a wig.

Isaza had jostled around pair of false geisha, laughing and watching as they took Kenshin's arms in theirs. "You fit right in, Himura-san. Ever consider joining a theatre? Kabuki would suit you. Osamu-san might just join in."

"I don't think I'd be fit for acting," Kenshin replied, shrugging them off. "Let's go before we miss Sakamoto-san's messenger."

It wasn't just that. He'd never seen a kabuki play in his life. Farming and the sword were all he knew. And with rules and laws as they were, people could not so simply change professions. A farmer was born and lived that way till the end of his days. A swordsman till the end. The Samurai class ruled, beneath them were the Joshi, then the Kashi, and last, the peasants. Kenshin was the lowest of these, maybe even lower, considering for a year of his life, he was a slave. No, the sword was all Kenshin had. If only he could show Shishou his appreciation, his apologies.

"Hai. Hai," Isaza smiled.

They headed down a narrow alley and were just passing a crossroads when a voice yelled, "There they are!"

The flash of light blue caught Kenshin's eye before he pulled Isaza along. "This way."

They ran. They were cornered. Kenshin climbed a roof, Isaza following. There was no time to stop and talk to figure out why the Shinsengumi had a particular vendetta against them this day, why they were so bent on finding Kenshin or Isaza. It had been months since they were in Kyoto. Maybe it was because they had just received word of Hitokiri Battousai's returning. Maybe it was to find Ryoma or Katsura. Whatever the reason, they had to run.

Kenshin dropped into an alleyway next to a main road.

"Split up?" Isaza asked.

"You meet Sakamoto-san. I'll lead them away," Kenshin said.

Isaza hesitated, the look on his face saying he didn't want Kenshin taking the weight of any impending fights alone.

"They know my face better than yours anyway," Kenshin added. "You best go."

Accepting the fact that the Shinsen recognized Battousai's distinct features more than his unremarkable regular-Japanese ones, he nodded and ran off down the main road amidst the crowds of the late afternoon and dinner-goers.

Kenshin waited till the Shinsen had seen him – and others with them not clad in the famous light blue – followed. It was the first sense Kenshin noticed not all was quite right. The Shinsengumi did not rely on outsiders. Regardless, pursuers bent on his demise did not merit the need to linger.

No matter how hard Kenshin ran, they kept on his heals. His strength came back from his week of rest, but in the end, it felt like negligence to the Shishi cause. Several times he stopped to fight them, throwing them aside into whatever river that lay nearby, into the throngs of an Eejanaika, from a rooftop, or in whatever nook that might allow Kenshin to disappear from sight. By sunset, Kenshin found himself near the meeting point of the Takanogawa and Kamagawa with no traces of the Shinsen or others could be seen.

Quietly, he made his way towards Shimogawa-jinja, just between the fork of the two rivers. It was an old hideout and had not be used recently, but the Shinsen never suspected it. However, in the past, the Emperor cared for the shrine because of the legend that surrounded it. The place was for the protection of kami, and the clan of Kamo. The Shishi had no reason to be connected to the place, aside from the Emperor's protection and that always interested the Ishin Shishi.

The path was long and straight with high walls on each side. Kenshin stopped at a smaller shrine within the grounds, Kawai-jinja, and seeing no monk there, continued on through the woods to the main shrine. At the sight of lanterns hung about the Ro-mon gate and a young monk starting his evening chores, Kenshin felt relief. But he dare not let down his guard. The Shinsen could still come knocking. Kenshin made no move to hide himself from the young monk and the other looked up, surprised.

"I come in peace, Shinkan-sama," Kenshin said bowing. "Please, if it's alright I need a place to stay for the night. I am Himura Kenshin of the Ishin Shishi."

The monk bowed back, his features softening. "I will speak with Guji-sama. You may wait at the haiden."

He turned and walked towards one of the small builds surrounding the honden. The main sanctuary looked dark and foreboding in the darkening light, little candles lite in the background. But before entering the haiden, Kenshin turned to the natural spring pool with bamboo ladles where he washed his hands and mouth. Then he slipped off his shoes and walked up the steps of the haiden, tossed a coin the the large wooden box, and gently tugged on the bell. He did not want to alert anyone besides the kami and the monks that he had come. With two deep bows and two claps, Kenshin bowed his head and prayed.

Kenshin wasn't religious and had barely ever come to the shrines, even with Shishou. But if he were to pray for anything, peace for the land, a quick resolution to this war, and safety for the people and himself.

This, he did not tell Katsura.

The head priest took him in, offering Kenshin a meager meal and a bed for the night, but before either could be taken, the noise of several men entering the shrine echoed through the surrounding woods.

"I must go. I'm sorry to bother you." Kenshin said. "Do you have a hidden exit I might use?"

The Guji-sama shook his head. "No. There are high walls all around, but we can hide you."

"I fear damage to the shrine and would avoid blood being spilled on holy ground," Kenshin said as he bowed, thanking the old priest and headed out the door. If anyone happened to be injured on Shinto land than the whole shrine would need to be shut down. That sent a signal to the Shogunate, most likely the Shinsengumi or Mimawarigumi, and they would come asking questions. Kenshin would not risk the safety of the shrine.

After that, much was blurred. There was so much fighting and running. He remember leaving the Shrine grounds fulfilling his promise and letting the priest go on in peace. Pain laced his memory, the first of wounds being the strike to his shoulder. After that, it was mort difficult to fend them off, leaving Kenshin's left arm weak. Already tired from earlier, Kenshin wasn't sure how long he would last. That's when the urgency and fear sunk in. It was only at the bridge Kenshin knew he was fighting a real Shinsengumi, but it did not solve the question of the other men.

He posed the question to Katsura, finishing his report of the incident.

Katsura, who had asked for tea to be brought, sipped and answered. "Isaza-san said they were Mimawarigumi. Apparently with all this uproar of Imperial Rule, rivalries are breaking out anew. We still don't know why they were after you, except that it may have something to do with Ryoma-kun's message."

So, the Shinsengumi and Mimawarigumi out on competition, as the Shinsengumi won over the high-ranking samurai, being more effective in these last few years. The Mimawarigumi had no uniforms, unlike the distinct light blue, but they had dwindled so much the Shishi no longer considered them a real threat. Apparently that was not the case.

"We must be more watchful of them," Kenshin said. He'd agreed to drink the tea Fujiwara left for him, smelling it first in case the old man slipped in some sleeping potion. Falling asleep on Katsura would be so embarrassing.

"How did they know?" Kenshin asked. It was more to himself than to Katsura.

"Isaza-san said there might be a spy. He said you felt like you were being watched?"

Remembering the vague feelings when walking down the halls only yesterday with Isaza. He had felt the same thing too. If there was someone and they acted this quickly… Kenshin set his tea down, staring Katsura hard in the eyes. "Yes. I think it's best you leave this inn, Katsura-dono. Best if you left tonight."

Katsura was not taken aback by Kenshin's force, but smiled, "I thought you would say that. However, there is the matter of this morning."

Kenshin's encounter with the Shinsengumi and Mimawarigum gave no clues as to who attacked him in the morning. Katsura berated Kenshin for his foolishness of going outside in the snow as ill as he was.

"At least you were not in the inn when Isaza-san's body was discovered. While your being outside is suspicious, what you have told me matches what we found." Katsura leaned back, taking a more relaxing position as he told Kenshin what they found. The disheveled futon, a window open, and remains of a drug in an oil lamp.

Exhaustion washed over Kenshin not only from relief, but the heat of his own skin. He'd only been awake for a mere half hour and already sleep wanted to take him back into its grasp. But, he had to know.

"Can you tell me what happened exactly?" Kenshin never guessed that he'd be asking Katsura of this. Usually it was the other way around, Katsura inquiring of Kenshin. "Osamu-san seemed distressed."

Katsura nodded. He poured tea for himself and for Kenshin. "He's sad because he lost two good friends today and almost lost a third."

"Three?"

"Hmm, hai. Isaza-san, you know of."

Kenshin stared down at the tea in his hands. The warm tea wasn't helping his desire to stay awake.

"And that thieving cat. Although...she ended up saving my life."

Kenshin looked up, inquiring with his eyes. The cat…?

Katsura continued. "My miso was poisoned this morning. Rather strongly too. I found her collapsed right next to the bowl."

Kenshin almost dropped the tea before catching himself. Shock sent his mind reeling from the threat of sleep.

"Although Okami-san is quite happy that little furball will no longer be stealing her fish." Katsura grinned, and his smile widened as he continued. "At first, you were blamed, for the obvious reason, but everyone knows you can't be the perpetrator here. You're far too loyal to try and kill me."

Kenshin didn't feel any better. "Who was the third?"

"You."

"Me?"

Katsura sighed, exasperated. "Yes, Kenshin. Despite what you may think, there are those here who do respect you and consider you a friend and comrade. There are many who are disturbed by the events of today."

Kenshin didn't know what to say. It made him half want to stay here until the end of it all, until the Shogunate were completely defeated and any war after, but Kenshin would never go back on his word. Once the decisive battle was won, he would leave.

"On that note. You will accompany me tonight."

Too tired to reply, Kenshin blinked wide-eyed at Katsura. "What…but…?"

"You were attacked too, Kenshin and I won't leave you here in the state your in."

Kenshin mentally cursed himself. He hated this. Not only was his body failing him, but his mind was working so slowly. Realizations he normally would come to needed to be explained. Maybe his relationship with the Ishin Shishi wasn't the best, but Kenshin appreciated their kindness and worry all the more.

Damn this fever.

A thought occurred to him. "Katsura-dono?"

"Yes?"

"Why attack me, other than being a hitokiri? You said it was because of Sakamoto-san's message."

Katsura's face hardened and he gripped the teacup in his hand tight. "Even if it was, it was of no consequence. Yoshinobu called a meeting today to ask the heads of clans what to do – an odd move – but excused everyone without giving one way or the other if he would follow Ryoma-kun's advice. So, we are left still waiting."

Understanding, Kenshin proceeded with his proposition. "So there is no clear motivation behind these attacks?"

Katsura shook his head.

"I request to stay here, Katsura-dono. Your safety is of the upmost importance. While some Shishi here may…be my friend, as you say," Kenshin paused. The words were strange on his tongue. "Others are not. With you absent and my presence still here, more information may come to light."

It would force Katsura's accompaniment to be smaller, but he'd worked with it before, and often went off alone. The Shishi would still operate as it always had, but the spy would see it as an opportunity to take out a prime target without more eyes watching, especially the figurehead's.

Softly, Kenshin added, "I'm sure Fujiwara-senpai wouldn't want me leaving either. He would say I'm too ill to be moved."

And giving an opening to the spy. A delusion to be confident under.

The look on Katsura's face said he didn't like it, but understood. "Are you sure about this?"

Kenshin nodded.

"Very well. I trust your judgment. Don't do anything foolish, Kenshin."

"Hai, Katsura-dono."

* * *

Author's Note

This chapter required the most research. That's why it took me an extra day. Sorry! I've made some corrections to former chapters too. Just titles or names (so nothing worth re-reading) and the section on Sonno Joi from last chapter. Please enjoy. Also, no one seemed to like Isaza, so I killed him. Question! Who do you think is the perpetrator?

_Japanese Words  
_1. _mukuri-yane_: the types of roofs that are roundish and covered with ceramic tiles. _Mukuri _means roundish in Kyo-dialect and yane means roofs. They were made this way to dampen the sound of heavy rain. It is said "Mukuri-yane catches the blessing softly and lets the rain fall to the ground." _Machiya_ are traditional wooden townhouses that have mukuri-yane and _kyomachiya_ are machiya, but only found in downtown Kyoto; I believe the Hiiragiya Bekkan to be made in a similar way.  
2. _Yoshinobu Tatsumi_: leader of the Yoshinobu clan that drew out and attacked Kenshin in the Forest of Barriers during the Reminiscence chapters.  
3. _hakozen_: small individual tray-tables commonly used for meals in and before the 19th century. Later, large tables, or _chabudai_, meant for families, became more popular.  
4. _okayu_: rice porridge  
5. _demo_: but  
6. _Ikenai koto o shimashita_. : It's one of the most polite forms of "I'm sorry." Lit. "I've done something I shouldn't have."  
7. _ofuda_: amulets or pieces of paper talismans meant to give protection to one's household only issued by Shinto shrines. They only last one year and need to be replaced.  
8. _Shinkan-sama_: general name for priest at a Shinto Shrine  
9. _Guji-sama_: chief priest of a Shinto Shrine  
10. _haiden_: "the main shrine;" front porch where people pray, with a rope, a belle, and a collection box.  
11. _honden_: the main sanctuary or hall, usually connected to the haiden. It is the place where ceremonies are held and normal people cannot enter because it is said that is where the kami dwell.

_The Title  
_It is lyrics from One Ok Rock song, "The Beginning."

_Opium  
_Technically opium was outlawed in Japan and some sources will say that it never entered the country, before or after Perry's arrival, but yeah, somebody's lying. And it plays such a big part in the Kenshin-verse (anime, manga, and film) I don't think it can be ignored. Anyway, Opium came with Chinese medicine in the 1400s. It was called "Hul Gi" or "plant of joy" and is made from poppy plants. Chinese doctors found a method of general anesthesia as it induced unconsciousness. Supposedly opium was mixed with other herbs to create a mixture that is similar to tsusensan. I say supposedly because the original recipe was lost. In small doses opium's short term effects is the sense of euphoria, confusion, hallucinations, calm, slowed breathing, nausea, and drowsiness, and sometimes leads to sedation. If taken in larger amounts, death can occur. Man, am I torturing Kenshin.

_Cherry tree-lined canal; Philosopher's path  
_It's official name is "Tetsugaku no Michi" and is named for the Kyoto University Professor, Nishida Kitaro who used this place for daily meditation. It was named much later than the current story as Nishida was not born until May 1870, two and a half years from the date in this story. The path takes about 30 minutes to walk. It is a place where one walks to think and reflect and would be no coincidence for Kenshin to stumble upon this place and be reminded of the events in Otsu.

_Eejanaika  
_The phrase means "who cares?" or "why not" or something to that effect. They were religious celebrations that looked like carnivalesque dances, but were intended for social or political protest and lasted from 1867 to 1868. There was no real goal or clear-cut reason that these people were protesting except that they didn't like foreigners. Ofuda were used (from what I could gather) like confetti, to give the people hope of protection as the "amulets fell from Heaven." The questionable activities in the street was because of the carefree attitude that these protestors/celebrators had. They'd strip, have sex, and well, do things because "who cares?" Eventually in 1868, these protests did get very violent. Mob violent. (Didn't intend this until a re-reading, you might be able to take some humor from Kenshin & the false geishas. Eh-hem.) An Eejanaika incident is seen in EP 47 and 48 of the Taiga drama, _Ryoma Den_, however it's just dancing and chanting. Nothing questionable seems to be happening except for Ryoma's massive confusion.

Review Response  
**Scarred Sword Heart: **Question is, what would Kenshin do if he heard them?**  
kokoronagomu: **Don't be sorry, if anything it's I who should be.I didn't get your review until after I uploaded. Whoops! I was in Seoul all last week and had a hard first week back teaching...and so it goes. I'm trying to get as best as I can to the Kenshin from the Remembrance Arc, sort of the transition between the Hitokiri and Rurouni. A lot of people paint Kenshin as the pure rurouni or angry teenager. While those may have there truths, as Kenshin is still young, he still had to learn and grow to become the rurouni as we were introduced to him. His relationship with the Ishin Shishi helps define that and I want to explore it here. This story has been shifting around inside my head for at least, oh, a lot of years. I also like to think (headcannon) that Fujiwara was able to teach Kenshin something, like living life to the fullest. i'm not sure yet. I'm so happy you enjoy it.


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